


I'm The Worst So I Act Like The Best

by luckypeopl3 (awstenknight)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: BillDip, GF, Homophobia, Human Bill Cipher, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Not sure where I'm going with this, Transitioning, Transphobia, cipherpines, i should've planned this more but oh well, probably gonna add more tags later on, shayybaybot, trans!Dipper, trigger warnings??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:52:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awstenknight/pseuds/luckypeopl3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have you all so happened to have forgotten who Bill Cipher even is?" Dipper frowned. "He's the worst, and I'm not even saying that out of jealousy, I'd say that straight up to his stupid, shitty, adorable face!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm The Worst So I Act Like The Best

**Author's Note:**

> i'd like to apologise in advance for the fact that I'm literally the worst at chapter updates so if i don't update in forever i'm hella sorry.
> 
> as of 9/18/2017:   
> I have no idea where the hell I was going with this, so I can't really continue the story because I don't have a plan for it, so, I'm sorry for that.

I walk out the house. This day, already, I knew would be complete hell. It's not even seven in the morning yet. 

"What a great way to start the week..." I trail off, muttering to mostly myself. I look over to my twin sister, Mabel. She sent me a pitying look. I frown.

"Dip, are you alright?" she asks as we walk to the bus stop. I sigh as we come to halt, waiting for the gracious time that the bus driver would decide to show up. 

"Depends, do you want a truthful answer or a lie?" I reply. She glares at me.

"The truth."

"Then that answer is no," I say. "You know. Mom won't even allow me to change my name legally, and it's the start of the new semester. New classes, new teachers, old faces. Yeah, it's been two weeks, sure, but during those two weeks I've actually gotten things done. I've at least had the top surgery that you helped pay for. Mom's going to kill us and Grunkle Stan for letting that happen, you know."

"It's worth it for my bro-bro!" Mabel beams. I feel a smile tug at my lips and I let it go through.

"Thanks, Mabes," I smile. "But still, all the teachers and everyone at school.. I have to make sure I'm not late to any of the new classes I have, or well at least before they call roll, and make sure that they call me _Dipper_ and not... Uh, yeah."

"It's fine, Dipper, you don't have to say the name Mom forcefully assigned you at our birth," she says, sticking her tongue out. I wonder if she was joking about the 'forceful' part or not.

"And this hair," I shudder, running my fingers through the curly brown locks that were basically identical to Mabel's. "I hate it."

"Let's cut it," Mabel grins, pulling a pair of scissors. 

"Did you take my scissors again?"

"I lost mine!" she whines.

"Mabel, you own like, seventeen pairs of scissors! How could you even lose those things? They're so covered in glitter that they're like, blindingly shiny."

"I dunno," she shrugs. "So, are we cutting your hair or not, broseph?"

"At the bus stop? Are you crazy?" I whisper-yell, now realising that there were some other kids from our neighbourhood on the other side of the street. Checking the time, it was 7:30. Great, our bus is late, and now has been for a good hour. 

"It's the new semester. Instead of dealing with transphobic poop-heads, the people who weren't friends with you before will think you're new," she explains. I ponder the thought. I mean, it does make sense. I'm not exactly ready to be open to the entire public about my gender identity, but yet again... It's hard to do that when you're in the middle of transitioning.

"You know.. Go for it, sis," I grin slyly. Today's a new day, today's a new start. "Maybe today won't be so bad."

"I hope not, Dip-Dop," she hums, tying my hair into a pony tail before taking one swift cut. "Well, that was the easy part. Hope that Jack won't mind cleaning up some hair bits on the ground."

"Who's Jack?" I ask as Mabel hands me the tail of hair. I hold it while she continues working the rest.

"The garbage man," she answers. "There's a trash can right next to you, Dipper."

"Why do you even know our garbage man? And on a first-name basis? Jesus, Mabel," I say, tossing the hair into the trash can after removing the hair tie. 

"I don't know, why are you such a hermit crab?" she laughs. "Done! Voila, do you approve of my Mabeltastic job?"

"I can't see the back of my head," I deadpan.

"That's why I have a mirror, dummy," she giggles, pulling a mirror that looks like it belongs in a locker. She presses a button on the bottom of the rectangular reflective object and the circles bordering light up. 

"You'd need two if you want me to see the back of my head."

"Good thing I have plenty of mirrors to go around!" Mabel pulls out another mirror, holding it behind my head while giving me the mirror with the lights to hold. I move my head around, tilting it left and right and lifting it up and down. 

"And you did this in the dark?" I ask, flabbergasted at the outstanding job she had done. She nods, taking the mirrors and putting them back in her bag -- which was way to glittery, despite what anybody says.

"Oh, hey look at that," she says. "It's the bus! See, I told you it would come befor-"

"Mabel, it's past eight o'clock," I interrupt, pulling out my phone to show her the time even though she's fully capable of checking the time on her own phone. All _five_ of them. For some reason, my sister has a knack of saving every phone she's ever owned, even when getting a new one. The only time she actually ever lets one leave her possession on a permanent basis (and even then it's difficult to get one on a _temporary_ basis) is if someone guilt trips her into letting them have one (of which they're smart enough not to beg for a certain one) or if one of our cousins decides that it's time to annoying the ever living shit out of us. By us, I mean me. 

"Maybe I wasn't gonna say before school started, you butt-muncher," she whines, crossing her arms and sticking her tongue out at me. It's been a good long four and half years since I've been visited by the 'grumpy Mabel'. Ahh, how I miss being twelve.

"Come on, Mabes," I say grabbing her hand and practically dragging her with me onto the bus. 

"I'm sitting with you today," she declares, shoving me over to the window seat. I've always liked the window seat better anyway.

"Why?" I ask suspiciously. Mabel never sat with me unless it was the first day of school (a Pines' tradition!) or if something serious was up. "You okay, May?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she says in a surprisingly genuine voice. "Elijah moved during break, remember? He has a different bus now."

"I don't like that guy," I mumble, looking out the window. "He's so... Creepy? No, that's not the word I'm looking for."

"He's a lot like you," she says, glaring at my 'accusation' as she'd call it. "Whether you want to see it or not."

"Did you seriously just compare me, best bro-bro, Dipper Rose Pines, to that... That _guy_ you're friends with for some reason?" I gasp. "I'm flabbergasted! I'm, I am so offended Mabel."

"Geez, cool it Dip," she frowns. "Stop being such a dick. Besides, I've got dirt on your friend."

"Who are you even talking about? Since when did I actually have a friend?" I ask, genuinely wondering if she knew of a time where I had kept a long-term friend who didn't run off because I was 'too into the paranormal', 'that one weird kid nobody likes', or someone who started out as Mabel's friend and continued to be _only_ Mabel's friend after they met me.

"What about... Uh..." she trails off. She looked to be in a deep train of thought. "Oh, I know! What about... Pedro? You and him were good friends!"

"He only liked me because I gave him my tacos on Taco Tuesday," I say, dismissing her point. "No way in hell am I eating something that looks like came from a totally different planet."

"Well, okay, how about..." she pauses, most likely thinking of another candidate to prove her point. "Trina! You were good friends in elementary school."

"I think you mean that _you_ and her were good friends," I frown. "Remember how Trina once said to me, and I quote, 'Your only friend is your sister and she's only friends with you because she has to.'"

"I don't think sh-"

"Mabel there's literally no defending that," I say. 

"I.. Fair point," she mumbles. "I guess I'm wrong. I don't really have any dirt on you."

"Thought so," I mutter. The conversation ends here.

Getting off of the bus and walking onto Gravity Falls High School's property land for the first time in two sweet, sweet blissful weeks of vacation, instantly I see someone who's... Out of place. Which isn't particularly saying something considering this _is_ Gravity Falls, but at least the majority of the high schoolers seemed somewhat typical of the teenage population. 

The boy seemed to be taller than me, as with practically every other male in the universe, and had fluffy golden blonde hair that seemed to glisten in the early mornings' sunrise. I wasn't too sure if that was just the angle of the sun's rays or if someone took Edward Cullen's skin and sprinkled it on top of this dude's head. His hair was parted to the side, coming down in side-swept fringe, his left eye covered slightly. The eyes were what really troubled me the most. What.. What human has bright golden yellow eyes that.. Change? What?

"Dip, I think that guy knows you're staring at him," Mabel says, nudging me with her elbow. I shake my head, exiting my trance.

"Wha- Oh shit he saw me," I curse, snapping my fingers. "God he thinks I'm a freak. It's literally the first day of the second semester and I'm already going to be known as the fucking weirdo. Again! Again, Mabel!"

"Dipper Pines!" Mabel hisses, stabbing her finger into my chest. I wince at the harsh movement toward my (still) healing chest. 

"Mabel!" I whisper hastily.

"Right, sorry, I forgot," she apologises quickly, moving her hands down dramatically. "But bro-bro, you don't even know if he's a popular douchebag. Maybe he's a 'weirdo' like you, or maybe he's artsy like me! You can't judge him by looking at him!"

"Judge who, Shooting Star?" That voice sounds eerily similar.

"Huh?" Mabel looks at the boy that I was just staring at, who had unknowingly made his way over. _Great. Real fucking great. Dipper, you are such a fuck-up._

"Your sweater," the boy says. "It has a shooting star on it."

"Oh, yea! I forgot I was wearing this! This was the first sweater I made for myself when I was twelve. Do you like?" Mabel asks, beaming. She always loved it when people noticed her sweaters.

"It's very pink," he says. "And hello to you, Pine Tree."

"Pine Tree?" I ask sassily, crossing my arms and shifting my weight on one leg more than the other. "I haven't even worn the one thing I own with a pine tree on it in years."

"Are you sure?" the boy asks, raising his eyebrow. "Your glasses, there's a tree on the side of your frames. It looks like a silhouette of a pine tree."

I take off my glasses, and sure enough, the boy is right. I frown, still suspicious of the kid.

"Fair point," I say, putting them back on before the whole world becomes too much of a blur. "I'm Dipper and that's my twin sister, Mabel."

"Nice to meet you," the guy says, holding his hand out for a shake. I hesitate, accepting the shake after Mabel sends me a glare. "I'm Bill."

"Pleasures all mine, Bill," I mutter. "Say, what's your major here?"

"Major? I'm sorry, I'm new here."

"It's an art school, as you probably know," Mabel giggles. "What'd you come here for? Like, what's your specialty class? I have a lot of them because I couldn't choose just one."

"Oh, yeah yeah! I have two I think?" he laughs awkwardly, pulling his schedule out of his pocket. "I've got 'Pyramid Structures' with Mister or Miss Deene, and 'Graphic Formatting' with Mister or Miss Afleck."

"I have Graphic Formatting after lunch," I say. "You?"

"I have that with you," he answers. The bell rings.

"Well, that's my cue to leave. I'll see you round?" Bill asks, hope filling his voice.

"See you," Mabel and I say at the same time, and we part our ways.


End file.
